


The Memories of Professor Percival Graves

by nightingalesang



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Anal Sex, Ankle Cuffs, BDSM, BDSM Scene, Blow Jobs, Bruises, Cockwarming, Colleagues to Lovers, Corporal Punishment, Dom Drop, Dom Original Percival Graves, Dom/sub, Edging, Embarrassment, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander, Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Hand Feeding, Handcuffs, Impact Play, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Memories, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Over the Knee, POV First Person, POV Original Percival Graves, Painplay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Professor Original Percival Graves, Punishment, Punishment as a reward, Riding Crops, Safe Sane and Consensual, Semi-Public Sex, Service Kink, Shower Sex, Shy Newt Scamander, Smut, Spanking, Sub Newt Scamander, Teaching Assistant Newt Scamander, Trust, Whipping, crawling, mild spanking, proper aftercare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-07-29 08:04:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20078881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightingalesang/pseuds/nightingalesang
Summary: In this stack of papers, Professor Percival Graves recollects how he met his husband and then some other memorable occasions. By occasions, he means sex. I, his ever-faithful editor, should probably rename this The Dirty Memories of Professor Percival Graves...S.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter:  
spanking  
anal sex  
the pretence of plot abandoned quite early

I went through many appointments in my long career; however, the years I was invited to spend at the university in London were the most memorable. Not only were they especially fruitful regarding my research, but I also met the person who changed my life and who now snored loudly in our bed, only a mop of his greyish hair visible at one end of the duvet.

I came there as an already distinguished professor and I settled in quite nicely. Among the students, I enjoyed a reputation of stern and demanding lecturer and it suited me. I am not a friend of these modern friendly relations or - the horror! - addressing teachers by their first names.

My workload was reasonable but my research entitled me to request an assistant who would help me with lectures and grading and also participate in my research. I did request one although I had my doubts whether a suitable candidate would be found. 

The process indeed took several months because, as I said, I was rather demanding. I went through the pile of resumes, selected very few for interviews and refused all of them. Then, when I waved goodbye to the idea of an assistant, one last resume arrived. He was from a mid-European country (by accident the same as my grandmother was from), although his name sounded English. It was an amusing one: Newton Artemis Fido Scamander. His resume was quite impressive and he had stellar letters of recommendation. At that time, although the Internet was already used, it wasn’t easy to ‘google’ a person as it is nowadays, therefore we had to trust our colleagues. I phoned to get more details about Mr Scamander and his former supervisor spoke about him very fondly - in very broken English. No matter. I hoped Mr Scamander’s command of the language would be better.

Indeed, it was. The man arrived for the interview in time, spoke very good English with just a slight accent and seemed competent enough to handle tasks required from him. He also struck me as a docile and shy person - he couldn't keep eye contact and blushed a lot - which I found a bonus. You see, I have a difficult nature to handle and two dominant men in one office would not have worked well. I offered him the position and was pleased that he could start almost immediately.

It was a blessed choice. Mr Scamander - or Newt as he asked me to call him - was an unobtrusive presence in the office, save for one peculiarity which I am going to mention shortly. Appearance-wise, he was a slender man, with a rather wild ginger hair that he constantly mussed with his hand in embarrassment. He had a colourful fashion style, in winter he was inseparable from his blue coat and long striped scarf. As a redhead, he had his share of freckles over his nose and cheeks. I found it endearing. In fact, I found the whole Mr Scamander endearing, which was a fact that I tried to conceal with all my might. After all, at that time, although no longer illegal, a relationship with a colleague of the same sex would not be perceived well.

I also didn’t know whether his preferences were the same as mine, at least at the beginning. And here comes this peculiarity of his. Newt had this habit which at first I found rather annoying. When he focused on something, he talked to himself in his mother tongue. Very silently, yet still audible. I don’t think he realized this, for when I inquired what he was saying the first couple of times, he was surprised. He apologized but did the same only a few minutes later. I learnt to ignore it. Other than that, he was a perfect assistant and in times, it was surprisingly nice to hear my grandma’s language spoken in that lovely voice of his.

However, as our working relationship progressed, Newt’s monologues became - how to put it - rather personal. His brain, probably safe in the knowledge that nobody could understand him, supplied random comments about my appearance or some other observations he wouldn’t normally tell me. When it happened for the first time, I froze. Luckily, he couldn’t see me because we sat back to back. I thought I misheard. But then it happened again. And again. When one of the comments was directed at the shape of my arse, I had no more doubts about his preferences. It filled me with glee. But still, it was risky to act. I didn’t want to endanger our perfect working symbiosis. 

One day, however, he murmured something that set fire to my veins and shot directly into my cock, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to be immune to him much longer. I knew our personalities suited each other exceptionally well and I was aware of the docile streak in him. But hearing him say it aloud… If I remember correctly, it was something in the line of “it was so hot how he told off that student, oh god, I wish it was me, he could bend me over the desk and spank me, then take me right there.” I believe he realized what he had said this time because there was a sharp intake of breath and when I looked at him, his ears were completely red. But he pretended nothing had happened and so did I. 

Not so long afterwards, the situation got resolved for us. We both attended a department meeting, a tedious affair only minor part of which concerned us but we had to sit through it. I was bored out of my mind when the head of the department addressed me with the request of a guest lecture in one of the mid-European universities. Which happened to be Newt’s birthplace. Upon hearing this, Newt raised his head from the doodle he was drawing into his notepad. Then the head added: “You don’t even need an interpreter, as you speak the language, if I’m not mistaken, Professor Graves.”

The boredom of the meeting came to a screeching halt. I looked at Newt. His eyes widened and his face became impossibly red. He opened and closed his mouth but no sound came out. Abruptly, he stood up, gathered his things, excused himself and left the room. I would have gone after him but I couldn’t. 

“Mr Scamander has been unwell the entire morning,” I covered his hasty retreat. “Indigestion, probably.”

“I see.”

After the end of the meeting, I went to search for Newt but couldn’t find him anywhere. He didn’t have any lectures left that day. I did. When I was done, I went to the secretary and asked her for Newt’s address. She gave it to me without a problem. Today, I would probably need to sign a GDPR form with my own blood and wouldn’t get it anyway.

I went to Newt’s, hoping he hadn’t done anything stupid. I rang the bell and waited. After a few minutes, the door opened and Newt stared at me. It looked like he was crying, most likely from shame. My heart ached for him. 

“Wha- How? Oh god,” he groaned and put his face into his hands. 

“Can I come in?”

Newt nodded and stepped aside. I entered the flat and looked around curiously. The room was small, divided in the middle by a screen that presumably hid a bed, and there was a tiny kitchenette in one nook. There was a desk by the window and an old sofa. The room was cramped but tidy and there was even an attempt of decor, as colourful as Newt’s clothing.

“I… that is… if you want to sit down,” he said, gesturing to the sofa. “Tea?”

“Maybe later.”

I wanted to put him from his misery as soon as possible. “Please, sit down.”

He eyed the sofa that was too small to sit on with some distance between us and opted for a chair. He wasn’t able to look into my eyes, his face again, or maybe still, red like a tomato.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry! I don’t even know what I have been saying! It was completely inappropriate of me and if you want to fire me, I will understand. I can hand in my notice tomorrow… But if I knew you understood…oh my god...”

He was completely worked up, on the verge of crying again. It would take a very long time to calm him down. Unless… I decided to put everything on one card.

“Newton,” I said in my stern voice I reserved for the most difficult students. His eyes snapped open and he finally looked at me. Good.

“Come here.”

He gulped.

I pointed at the spot in front of me and raised an eyebrow at him. He stood up and made a few steps towards me, silent, eyes wide. I took a pillow from the sofa and placed it on the floor.

“Kneel.”

He swallowed again, unable to take his eyes from mine. Then he lowered himself on the pillow.

“Good. Now, listen to me. Firing you is very very low on my list of what I want to do to you. With you.”

His eyes went even wider.

“What?”

“Shhh. First thing I want to do is to apologize. I should have told you I speak your language. But I just enjoyed it too much. It had not occurred to me something like this could happen. I’m sorry.”

Newt gaped at me. “Enjoyed?!”

I smirked. “I believe our needs are aligned more than you think.”

“Oh.”

I placed my palm on his cheek. He leaned into the touch.

“Do you want this? Do you want what you were saying?” I asked, voice low and quiet. “Because I do. Very much.”

Newt closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. The expressions on his face were changing rapidly as he processed the implications. I gave him time. I would give him all the time in the world. To see this wonderful man willingly on his knees in front of me was heady. My mind was reeling with possibilities. I used the time to calm and centre myself.

He opened his eyes and looked firmly at me. “Yes.”

“Good. You can put a stop to anything we will do at any moment. Pick a word you would use in such a case.”

Newt thought for a moment. “Caffeine.”

I smiled. We both read an article about it just yesterday. “Caffeine. When you say it, everything stops immediately. I will ask no questions and I will not be displeased.”

He nodded.

“Now, I don’t mind your involuntary comments, Newton. But it’s very naughty to think such things about me without sharing them with me. Keeping them to yourself,” I stroked his cheek with my thumb. “Don’t you think?”

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?” I prompted.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me, what happens to naughty boys who do such a thing?”

“They’re,” Newt groaned in embarrassment but there was an evidence of his enjoyment already forming in his trousers, “they’re punished. Sir.”

“Very good,” I praised him. “Stand up, undress and fold your clothes.”

It was obvious that Newt hadn’t expected that but he didn’t say anything and with shaking hands began to unbutton his shirt. I took off my jacket and cufflinks and began to slowly roll up my sleeves, watching as he folded his shirt neatly. I saw him eye my forearms. I was at the peak of my physical strength at that time, which was substantial If I may say so myself. But Newt himself was a work of art. He was flushed all over his chest, almost up to his light-pink nipples. His torso was slim but nicely toned and freckles covered the majority of it. 

He went for his trousers, shimmied out of them and again folded them per my instructions. Then he looked uncertainly at me.

“So good for me,” I whispered and a shudder went through him. 

Newt was barefoot, so the last item standing between him and full nudity was his boxers, tented substantially. He hooked his thumbs under the waist and lowered them in one quick motion. I licked my lips in anticipation. His cock was fully erect now, almost golden hair around it trimmed but not shaven. Exactly as I liked it. 

“Look at you. So beautiful,” I sighed. I couldn’t wait to lay my hands on him. 

“T-thank you, Sir,” Newt said, unsure of what he should do. I took pity on him.

“Come here. I want your gorgeous body stretched over my lap.”

He nodded and came closer. I took hold of his hand and helped him to take the position. His torso was propped comfortably by the pillows and stuffed armrest of the sofa, his feet on the floor and his arse lied perfectly centred over my knees. It was such an incredibly arousing sight that I had to take a moment to calm down again. It had been quite a long time since I last enjoyed these activities with somebody. 

I wanted to give Newt exactly what he dreamed of. I carded fingers of my left hand through his hair and massaged his back. He relaxed under my touch, sighing. I placed my hand on his right buttock and it made him jump a little. His arse was just perfect. Round but firm, white with a rosy undertone. I very much looked forward to seeing it redden under my ministrations.

I placed my left hand firmly on his back to stop him from excessive squirming.

“You don’t have to count this time,” I told him. I wasn’t going to give him an exact number as I didn’t know how far his love for pain ran, how much he could comfortably bear. It was possible that he simply enjoyed the situation as such and in that case, I would keep it light.

I lifted the palm and brought it down with a loud smack. It was like electricity running from my palm straight to my groin. Newt gasped but otherwise stayed silent. I massaged the imprint and then gave a corresponding slap to the other cheek, which elicited a tiny yelp from him.

I proceeded to spank him, observing his reactions closely. It soon became obvious that he was enjoying it immensely. His squirming wasn’t to go away from my palm, it was to get friction for his hard cock against my thigh. I was so aroused I believe I would have been able to come just from the sight of him alone.

It wasn’t until around thirty that he began to show the first signs of discomfort. His arse acquired a lovely shade of red. His legs, that at the beginning he modestly kept together, were spread wide. I couldn’t resist and stroked the soft skin of his inner thighs, dipping my fingers between his cheeks. Newt moaned, arching his back. 

“Please,” he whined and raised his hips to get more.

“Last five,” I told him. “You will take them, won’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” Newt nodded.

“You are such a good boy for me...”

Newt whimpered at this, eyes closed. His lips, usually light pink, were red and swollen because he was biting them.

I delivered the last five slaps fast but not very hard. Newt yelped at the sharp sting and I soothed it with my palm, revelling in the heat that radiated from his buttocks.

“Please…oh god…” Newt hips rocked against my thigh.

“What do you want, Newt?” I leaned forward and whispered into his ear. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.” 

I felt the man shudder under me. He was so responsive.

“Uhm,” he stammered and buried his face into the pillow, “would you.. that is…”

It was adorable. He lay there naked, sprawled over my lap, his arse spanked bright red, his cock hard and he was still shy all over.

“Newton. Tell me,” I ordered.

“Fuck me,” he whimpered.

I growled in response. I helped Newt to get up and sit on my lap and finally kissed the gorgeous mouth. My left hand was on the back of his head. I took a handful of his hair and pulled it hard. Newt tilted his head back with a low moan, exposing his neck to my kisses and bites. I run my right hand over his chest, pinched and twisted his nipple between my fingers. I could torture him like this for hours.

“Yesss,” he hissed. His fists grabbed my shirt and held tight, rocking his hips slightly.

Looking around the room I asked: “Should we take it to bed?”

“No, it’s old and shaky, Sir.”

I smirked. I certainly didn’t want to destroy Newt’s furniture with our passionate activity. 

“Very well. Kneel at the edge of the sofa, elbows on the backrest.”

He obeyed with enthusiasm. It was an exquisite view. His back was arched in a beautiful curve, his head hung low, hair mussed and damp with sweat. His arse was presented perfectly for my taking. I ran my hands over his sides and thighs, then from his knee up over the sensitive inner side and cupped his balls. Newt groaned and arched his back even more. I brushed my thumb over his entrance.

“Do you have-?”

“The desk drawer,” he panted.

I prepared him slowly and meticulously and at the end of it, Newt was trembling, begging, needy mess, his shyness forgotten in his desperation.

“I wish you could see yourself just know,” I marvelled with three fingers buried in his ass, stretching him. “Maybe next time I’ll bend you over in front of the mirror. You’ll see how naughty you look when you are begging for my cock.”

Newt shuddered violently and groaned. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I opened my trousers, giving myself a few strokes. Having rolled up the condom, I posed the head of my cock at Newt’s opening. He immediately pressed back. I slapped his reddened arse sharply, drawing a startled yelp from him. 

“Stay still,” I growled and grabbed his hip to steady him. I teased his entrance for a moment and then I slowly pushed in, giving Newt time to adjust.

I knew I wouldn’t last long in his tight heat. He wriggled, trying to make me move.

“Sir, please…”

“Needy thing,” I said fondly and started to fuck him in earnest. He was rather vocal and soon the air was filled with moans and grunts and pleas. I was rapidly getting closer. One hand still at his hip (he had a bruise there for several days), I took hold of his neglected cock and began jerking him in fast firm strokes.

“Come for me, Newt,” I commanded, pounding into him. He shuddered, then his muscles tensed and he spilt over my hand. As he tightened the muscles in his arse, it took two, three thrusts and I plunged into the release right after him. 

We both stayed there, panting. When I gathered my wits, I withdrew and laid Newt on the sofa. His limbs were completely relaxed. He wouldn’t be able to stand even if he wanted to. I grabbed a towel and cleaned us both, then filled a glass with water for Newt to drink. He gulped it down greedily. A blanket - striped, of course - was folded at the end of the sofa. I drew it over him. It took some squirming around but at the end, I was half lying, half sitting on the sofa and Newt was on top of me, nuzzling into my chest. I petted his hair and he hummed in contentment. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

I planted a kiss on the crown of his head.

“Would you stay?” I felt his body tense a bit.

“Of course.”

And I did. For twenty years now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Newt's quirk, as made-up as it may seem, was inspired by my former colleague who did this All. The. Time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter:  
very light spanking (blink and you'll miss it)  
cockwarming  
blow job  
semipublic guided masturbation (there is nothing to be seen, really)  
anal sex

With my husband still sleeping, I could indulge a bit more in my memories. 

It was almost a year after we got together. Newt practically lived in my place then although it was all hush-hush. We were very careful but London is immense and I lived quite aside the usual university quarters. 

We talked a lot after our first impromptu scene. Newt indeed enjoyed pain and I was more than happy to indulge him. He also expressed a wish to extend the dynamics outside the scenes, which thrilled me to no end. He was just perfect and I cherished our evenings together, full of small gestures that grounded us both.

Then came a difficult time of the year, workwise. The winter exams coincided with my attendance at an important conference and between our research, conducting the exams and grading the papers, we almost didn’t meet at home and when we did, we were exhausted. Add to it our differences in circadian rhythms - I was an early bird and Newt a night owl - and you have a problem boiling up. 

When I wanted to do something about it early in the morning, Newt was fast asleep. In the evening, there wasn’t any energy left in either of us. We were both immensely frustrated and it began to show. We snapped at each other irritably at work and got on each other’s nerves. 

You see, usually, I liked my sex as I liked my research: deep, thorough and innovative. I could spend hours teasing and edging Newt until he sobbed and begged me for release. When we did scenes together, they were long and intense and thus I refused to compromise the aftercare. In this state of affairs, we couldn’t do it properly and resorted to a quick fuck here and there that left us thoroughly unsatisfied.

Our workload actually started to ease right when the tension between us was at its peak. I returned from the conference and we had just a few tests to grade. But instead of a happy reunion, we quarrelled on and off the whole day. Newt was restless and itching, pacing around and I wanted to manage the tests as soon as possible, get home and take care of him.

“Can you please make some tea?” I asked him, thinking that having a task to do would calm him down. Instead, Newt crossed his arms and glowered at me.

“I’m not your fucking maid!” he huffed. He immediately realized that he shouldn’t have said that but his temper was so worked up it prevented him from apologizing. The conflicting emotions were perfectly visible on his expressive face and a blush crept over his cheekbones.

_Right_. I stood up, took two quick steps to where he was standing, bent him at the waist and applied two no-nonsense slaps to his sit spots. It wasn’t as much for the pain (I no longer used spanking as a punishment - he enjoyed it too much), as for the shock value, and in that, I succeeded, for Newt gave a startled yelp. He obviously hadn’t expected I would be willing to do this here in the office but I was quite sure the floor was deserted and the sound of the slaps could be easily interpreted as books falling on the floor.

“Wh… Di… Th…” he spluttered, eyes wide, palms rubbing the seat of his trousers. “Here?!”

“You chose to be insolent here, so I’m dealing with it here,” I said sternly, locking the door. I intended to send him to the corner, which he hated, but then I got another, more creative idea. I must have grinned because Newt gulped nervously and took a step back.

I placed my hand on his nape and whispered into his ear: “What is your safeword, naughty boy?”

“C-caffeine, Sir.”

“And what are you going to do instead if you are unable to speak?”

“Tap you twice, Sir.”

I felt him relax a bit against me. All it took was to go through the opening ritual of a scene.

“Very good. Pity we don’t have a basin here, for I would wash your dirty mouth with soap. Instead, I’m going to put it to proper use. Get on your knees under my desk.”

It took some shuffling to fit his almost 6 feet under the desk but finally, he kneeled between my legs. I got a hold of his chin. Newt wetted his lips in anticipation, eyes gleaming in the shadow.

“Here is what we are going to do. I’m going to finish grading these tests and you are going to use your mouth to keep me warm. But you mustn’t do anything to get me hard. Do you understand?”

Newt’s eyebrows shot up. This was new and unexpected. However, so far Newt had been up to every challenge, so he nodded and busied himself with the opening of my trousers.

In the end, it was a challenge for me more than for him. I prided myself on a really good self control but one look at Newt with my cock in his mouth, his head leaning against my thigh, carefully trying to breathe evenly and not to move - that was enough to make a saint hard. His cheeks were flushed but he seemed to be rather content. I looked away and began to grade the tests, studiously ignoring him. Well… more like pretend I was grading those tests. I wouldn’t have noticed even if a student wrote that Peroxymonosulfuric Acid is a title of Shakespeare’s sonnet. It was impossible to focus with the wet heat enveloping my cock, especially as Newt swallowed from time to time.

Still, I believe I managed quite well, being only semi hard at the end of the grading. I stroked Newt’s freckled cheek. 

“Aren’t you beautiful like this?”

He looked at me innocently through his eyelashes and hummed, the vibrations drawing a growl out of me. I buried my fingers in his red hair and tightened my grip. 

“Do your magic, darling.”

Newt complied with enthusiasm. At the beginning of our relationship, he wasn’t that experienced and his technique was clumsy but he was a quick study and by now he knew how to play me. He could finish me off in such a short time that would be embarrassing hadn’t it been a proof of his skill rather than my stamina.

Through the haze of pleasure Newt was giving me I spotted one of his hands disappearing between his legs.

“Get your hand out of there!” I barked. “Did I say you could?” I grabbed his hair and yanked.

“N-no, Sir,” he lowered his eyes in embarrassment. 

“Both hands on my thighs,” I ordered. “I’m going to fuck your mouth and you are going to be a good boy and take it all.”

It was the only warning he got before I started thrusting into Newt’s willing mouth, holding his head firmly in place. 

He obediently kept his palms on my thighs, clutching the fabric of my trousers, ruining the creases in the process. Then again, the knees of his slacks weren’t in a better state. 

Thanks to the build-up he had given me, I didn’t last long before I spilled into his throat. After he thoroughly cleaned me with his tongue, I tucked myself in and pulled Newt up. 

“Come on, let’s go home,” I gathered my briefcase and coat. I really hoped we wouldn’t meet anyone on the way to the car because Newt’s state was of total debauchery: his lips red and swollen, cheeks still blushing, tears from fighting the gag reflex staining his face, hair dishevelled. 

He looked at me with a mixture of bewilderment and indignance.

“Oh,” I palmed his erection through the fabric of his trousers and cooed into his ear, “do you expect me to do something about this? Do you think you deserve it?”

Newt pressed himself against me and whined. “Please, Sir…”

“I asked you a question, Newton.”

He sighed, resigned to his fate.

“I don’t, Sir.”

I kissed his swollen lips slowly and tenderly, tasting myself on his tongue. 

“Indeed. However,” I emphasised with a nip to his bottom lip, “if you obey my instructions during our way home to the dot, I may change my mind.”

Newt perked up, grabbed his coat and made a beeline for the door. I silently thanked whatever deity gave me such a beautifully responsive man, locked the office and followed him to the carpark.

*

Once we were seated in the car, Newt looked at me expectantly. I smirked to myself.

“Here are the rules,” I said as I steered the car to the exit. “You are going to touch yourself per my instructions, stopping every time I say so. You are not going to come. If you manage this, I’ll give you a reward of your choice once we get home.”

Newt inhaled sharply. He had his issues with semi-public activities of this type and I loved teasing him and pushing his boundaries. However, this was quite safe for him, as it was late and the car was dark inside, so he calmed down and nodded. This was going to be a long half an hour for him - and only if he was lucky and the roads were clear, which I seriously doubted.

“Unbutton your shirt.”

He did so and exposed his torso under the seat belt. 

“Stroke your chest and nipples.”

He did, at first tentatively, self-consciously, but as I made him pinch and twist them hard, he soon abandoned any sense of modesty and began moaning and squirming in his seat.

“Good boy,” I praised him. “Now open your trousers.”

He freed his straining length with a sigh of relief. I had only a dim view in the rear-view mirror and had to focus on the road anyway, but I didn’t need to see. I had every inch of Newt’s body memorized. Toned muscles on his long torso, freckled skin, slender hips. His chest was almost hairless but a thin trail of fine hair led directly to his groin where his cock now stood in the nest of trimmed golden hair.

He looked obscene as he sat there half naked, stroking his cock exactly as I navigated him. I felt my own arousal building up.

“Spread the knees and roll your balls with your other hand.”

Newt groaned, tilting his head back, exposing his neck. I had to fight the urge to bite him, to mark him. 

His moans grew more and more desperate.

“Stop.”

Newt whimpered but obeyed, chest heaving. I breathed with him until he calmed down a notch, then I ordered him to stroke himself slowly from root to tip and twist his hand at the top. This made him beg and plead in no time. 

“Stop.”

He was shaking his head resolutely. “I can’t… too close… Sir… please…”

“Newton!” I barked. “Hands off right now!”

It took a heartbeat but he complied. I saw he was on the very edge, ready to fall over and my voice drew him back. He was shaking and his breathing was ragged.

I slowly exhaled. That was close and it would be my mistake. I should have stopped him sooner but I enjoyed his desperation too much. I placed my hand on his knee.

“Good boy, you did so well, I’m very proud of you,” I murmured in a soothing voice. 

Fortunately, we just arrived home. I let him sit in the car until he calmed down. In the meantime, I unfastened the seat belt, buttoned his shirt, which was drenched in sweat, and tucked him in his slacks, the last movement earning me a hiss.

“Let’s get you home, darling.”

I walked around the car and helped Newt to his shaky feet. I rented a tiny house in the suburbs, so I just needed to get him through the front door and deposit him on the sofa in the living room. I took his face into my hands and observed him closely. He was obviously tired but it was clear he wanted more. He needed more. I just prayed he wouldn’t go for a pain play as his reward in this state.

I kissed him on the forehead and told him to stay there for a second. He made a protesting sound but I shushed him. Having grabbed a glass of water and a few chocolate pieces in the kitchen, I quickly returned. Newt gulped the water down and I fed him the chocolate one by one. This served two purposes: I really needed to get the liquid and some energy into him, so he wouldn’t pass out on me later, and it also conveniently divided the scene into the punishment and reward part.

Newt licked my fingers quite pointedly, his pink tongue swirling around them. I ran my thumb over his plush bottom lip, gripped his chin and looked him in the eye.

“What is your wish, my beautiful boy?”

He blushed as he replied but looked me in the eyes, which was no small feat for him. He usually looked anywhere else but in the eyes of the person he was talking to, hiding behind his fringe. 

“Please, take me to the shower and then to bed and fuck me, slowly. I need to be able to see you and touch you.”

I caressed his cheek, secretly relieved. 

“With utmost pleasure.”

The transfer to the bathroom, however, was a bit hindered by the fact that Newt refused to move a finger. In the end, I carried him in my arms and deposited him on the washing machine. I stripped him and tossed the sweat-drenched clothes into the laundry. I stopped for a moment to kiss him, running my hands over his back and sides. Newt probably wouldn’t admit it but he loved the contrast of him naked and me fully clothed as much as I did. He pressed closer, revelling in the sensation of my shirt against his skin.

I undressed quickly. The appreciative look in Newt eyes as they run up and down my body was an incredible ego boost. I entered the shower and adjusted the temperature, then took Newt’s hand and drew him in.

Newt groaned in pleasure as the warm torrent of water hit him. I spun him around and placed his hands on the tiled wall. From the nook in the wall, I took a shampoo and began to massage his scalp, drawing absolutely scandalous moans from him. I continued over the tense muscles on his neck, trying to loosen them a bit. Then my attention turned to his back and lower. I spent a tiny eternity on his arse, massaging and squeezing. When my fingers wandered between his cheeks, Newt hissed and arched his back, whining when I continued down to his legs. 

I chuckled. “Turn around, darling.”

He did, leaning against the wall for support, weak from my ministrations. I washed his chest and belly and then paid special and thorough attention to his cock. Newt gripped my shoulders, nails digging in but I didn’t mind. I hooked one of his knees over my elbow to get better access and massaged his balls and perineum. He went almost slack against me, mouth open but unable to produce a sound. I stopped teasing him, gave myself a quick wash and turned the water off. Having wrapped Newt in my bathrobe, I towelled off and led him to the bedroom. 

There, Newt shrugged off the bathrobe and flung himself into my arms.

“Impatient, aren’t we?”

“Uh-huh,” Newt mumbled, diving for a kiss.

I laid him gently on the bed and climbed over him. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once and I let him roam over my body while I was plundering his mouth, tasting the hints of chocolate I had fed him earlier. When I pressed my cock to his and grinded, he hissed into my mouth. I indulged in a few thrusts, then retrieved lube from the nightstand and began slowly preparing him. I went from one to two to three fingers while sucking and licking his nipples. Newt was arching his back against my mouth.

“Please, Sir!”

“What happened to ‘fuck me slowly’?” I raised my head and smiled at him.

“To hell with slow,” Newt panted, “Sir.”

I had to laugh. 

“I see. Clearly, I must have misunderstood earlier.”

I slicked myself and pushed in without further delay, for I was at the end of my tether as well.

Newt gave out a happy sigh and wriggled to make me move. I began to thrust in a slow, steady rhythm. He wrapped his hands around my arms and locked his eyes with mine. He almost closed them in pleasure with each thrust but never let go. It was more intense this way and I felt a swell of emotion in my chest and at the same time, the orgasm coiled in my belly. Before I could think about it, I blurted out: “I love you” and then my mind whited out. I felt Newt shudder violently under me and shout as the climax took hold of him. I held him through it, then carefully withdrew and collapsed on my side next to him.

It took a rather long time to catch our breaths. I thought that not having to move ever again would be a marvelous idea but eventually, I had to clean us and feed us something more substantial. With all that done, I snuggled under the blanket with Newt wrapped in my arms. 

We were silent for a while, just enjoying the closeness and warmth. The I felt Newt‘s finger drawing little circles on my chest. It was his way of preparing to ask an important question, so I waited patiently. 

“Did you… did you mean it?”

“Mean what?” I stroked his back.

“That you love me,” he said quietly.

I looked at the mop of read hair in my arms, the same feeling as before returning to me.

“Yes,” I kissed the top of his head.

“I… that is… I do too.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter:  
dom drop (kinda)  
hand-feeding  
service kink  
praise kink  
blowjob  
masturbation

A groan roused me from my memories. A hand felt around the empty mattress. 

“Come back to bed,” Newt’s sleepy voice sounded from under the duvet. 

I sighed. Newt was a night owl indeed. When he didn’t have to get up early, no power in the world would get him out of bed. Usually, I would potter around, reading, cleaning and waiting for him to get up. But my memories got me to a somehow weakened state and I relented. In fact, the idea of cuddling sounded rather appealing. I slid under the duvet and hugged Newt from behind. He mumbled contentedly and promptly fell back asleep. His hand rested on my forearm and his fingers brushed an old scar. 

I recollected very sharply how I got this and several other scars. It was a rather stupid accident. I was crossing a street and didn’t look properly both ways. A small lorry sped from around the corner, well above the speed limit. Luckily, I didn’t get a direct hit. I collided with the side of the car and got spun around and sent flying. I broke my wrist as I fell because I instinctively put my hands under me. Moreover, I got my arm badly cut by some protruding bits of the car. The entire left side of my body hurt for days like a bitch and I had bruises everywhere.

All in all, I was rather lucky because as painful and annoying as these injuries were, they weren’t life threatening and very soon I got discharged from the hospital into Newt’s loving care. I now recollect this period fondly but I wasn’t that content at the beginning. On the contrary, I experienced a rather bad crisis.

I guess it messed up with my ego. I wasn’t used to not be able to do anything by myself. I barely managed to go to the toilet. I wasn’t able to lift my arms, I could lie only on my back, not on the sides, and the painkillers I had to take made me foggy and exhausted. 

Newt had to wash me, dress and undress me, cook for me and basically feed me. I hated it. I hated every second of it. It rubbed me the wrong way, for usually I was the one taking care of Newt. I was used to being in charge and giving all my attention and care to him and for that I was rewarded with his obedience and respect. 

This was just wrong. I fought it hard and thus made it more difficult for Newt. He did so well. He managed my mood swings gracefully and handled teaching (and substituting for me), research and homework as if it wasn’t a problem at all. But I must have been wearing his patience thin all the same. 

“I would have never thought you such a difficult patient,” he remarked, leading me back to the couch after I almost fainted, having insisted to make a sandwich by myself. “But then again, maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.”

He sat by me, careful not to lean on my side that still hurt, and took my hand into his, caressing my knuckles.

“Do you want to tell me what the problem is or should I guess?” 

I frowned at him.

“Well. Initially, I thought you have a problem with me being in charge. But that’s not it, is it? You have a problem with you not being in charge.”

When did my darling become so observant? Of course he was right. But I really didn’t want to admit it. I just grunted. If my body hadn’t been killing me, I would have shrugged. 

“Mmm. And I was thinking what to do about it. You know, you are feeling bad that I  _ have to _ take care of you. But you haven’t realized,” and how he began to blush, “that I’m doing it gladly.”

I wanted to say something but he shushed me.

“And not only because I love you and because it’s the right thing to do. Uhm,” his earlier decisiveness deserted him and his cheeks were now pink but he ploughed through. “It’s because I like it. It-it turns me on.” 

_ Oh. OH. _

“I thought you… if you could order me to do it? I mean… it would make us both feel better,” he trailed off, unsure now, ducking behind his fringe when I didn’t say anything. “But you don’t have to, of course, I just…”

I quickly squeezed his hand. 

“You are a wonder, Mr. Scamander,” I whispered. “Always surprising me how perfect you are.”

Newt opened his mouth to protest but then remembered he shouldn’t question my compliments and closed it again.

“Thank you, Sir,” he mumbled, blushing even more.

“Now, darling,” I said, voice low. “Finish that sandwich and bring it to me.”

Newt’s eyes sparkled.

“Yes, Sir.”

When he brought the plate to me, I realized that he cut the sandwich to small morsels. He made to sit on the couch again but I stopped him.

“Kneel here,” I pointed.

He did, his delight clearly written all over his face. God, he was so beautiful like this. I felt my cock stir even through the fog of the painkillers. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the only organ awake. My stomach gave a loud rumble and Newt chuckled. He leaned to the side of the couch and took a piece of the cucumber sandwich between his fingers.

“Perhaps I could offer Sir something to eat?” he cocked his head playfully. 

“You little menace… Be careful, you are going to pay later for every insolence,” I growled but there was no actual heat in it.

His gaze, however, went immediately darker and he licked his lips. 

“I’m so looking forward to that,” he shifted on his heels to better accommodate the definite proof of his words. “But now...”

He offered me the bite and I took it, my lips brushing the tips of his fingers sent a shiver through me. Newt’s eyes were trained on me and his entire being focused on this task. I was in turn focused solely on Newt. He was so happy, so content… and so aroused.

I felt a twinge of guilt. I had been such an ungrateful pain in the arse. I had disregarded Newt’s care because I had been focused solely on my discontent, not seeing what he had been doing for me. I didn’t want to spoil the moment with talking but I resolved to apologize to him later. 

I took each morsel from his fingers as he delicately offered them to me. In general, Newt was a clumsy person but he could be staggeringly elegant when he chose to. If somebody had told me before that I would get hard just from being hand-fed a sandwich, I would have laughed at them. And yet…

“Kiss me,” I whispered when the last morsel of the sandwich was gone and Newt put the plate aside.

He did, slowly and with the same intense focus. I placed my uninjured right hand on his neck and squeezed. 

“Take me to bed.”

“Yes, Sir,” he smiled and helped me to stand up. I had to wait a moment for the world to stop spinning. I strongly suspected that this time it was caused by my blood moving elsewhere.

When he lowered me to our bed and propped my torso with cushions, I said simply: “Strip.”

“I should tend to your injuries,” he weakly tried to protest.

“I swear to God, Newton, if you don’t tend to my cock first, there will be consequences,” I growled, although - I’m embarrassed to admit - it sounded more like a whine.

Newt grinned and shed his clothes in record speed but still folded them neatly. 

“Now undress me.”

That took a lot more time and was far from pleasant, especially the removal of the t-shirt. Newt quickly checked my bandages anyway but found everything in order. He took a pillow and placed my plastered wrist on it, out of the way, to get a better access to my chest. Having propped himself on his arms to not lean on me, he trailed kisses from my jaw to my nipples and began to suck and lick, sending spikes of pleasure directly to my cock that had flagged a bit due to the pain of undressing.

“Newt…” I gasped.

He raised his head, pupils wide. His lips curled in smile. “I have you at my mercy now, have I not? Sir?”

“You’ll definitely pay for thi-iiis,” I moaned as he bit my nipple.

“Worth it,” he quipped as he descended over my navel to the spot where I wanted him the most.

His breath ghosted over the head of my cock. My hips bucked and I swore as the pain shot through my torso.

Newt sat back on his heels. 

“You know,” he mused, “maybe we shouldn’t do this if you cannot stay still. I would hate to aggravate your injuries, Sir.”

I gave him my meanest look and he shivered. 

“On second thought…,” he added, all innocence, and swallowed my cock in one go, pinning my thighs down with his hands.

“Fuck!” I grunted as his wet hot mouth moved relentlessly up and down my length. My head was spinning and was swimming in an endless pool of pleasure. Well, not exactly endless, for too soon I felt my orgasm building up. 

Newt sensed it too and went even faster. I shot into his mouth with a yell. He swallowed and sat back, wiping his mouth and enjoying a view of me totally undone by his talent. I was breathing heavily and tried to gather my wits. I couldn’t do much to recipropriate, even just lying down and receiving a blow job made me dizzy. However, there was one thing I could give him: my attention. 

“Touch yourself,” I ordered. “Spread your legs wide, I want to see everything.”

He squirmed uncomfortably. He was always reluctant to do this at first but at the end enjoyed himself thoroughly. I took a lube from the nightstand drawer with my good hand and threw it at him.

“I won’t repeat myself.”

Newt bit his lip and nodded. He repositioned himself so he sat on the bed, legs spread a bit.

“Wider. Good boy,” I praised him. “I won’t instruct you this time. I want to see how you pleasure yourself when I’m not here. How you touch yourself thinking about us.”

He slicked his hand and began slowly stroking himself. I kept my eyes on him, roaming from his cock to his flushed chest and face. 

“I love seeing you like this. You’re perfect.”

He moaned and attempted to hide his face. 

“Don’t hide, darling. I want to see you. Look at me.”

He did and continued to pump his cock slowly. 

“I love how you blush and I love that I’m the only one to see how far on your chest this blush goes. I love your freckles, every single one of them. I love your pink nipples.”

One of Newt’s hands creeped up and began to toy with one of them. 

“That feels good, doesn’t it? I love how you squirm, how you arch your back when I’m teasing you. I love your cock, so nicely shaped. I would like to take you into my mouth right now.”

Newt moaned low. He was now definitely past embarrassment and lost in pleasure. I continued to lavish praise on him and I meant every word.

“I can’t wait to fuck you, to watch my cock stretch your tight hole. You’ll be begging for it, won’t you?”

Newt keened, not able to form coherent words. His hand sped up frantically. 

“You are going to come for me, aren’t you, Newt?”

He did, coming all over the bed and his stomach. I watched it as one watches a breathtaking work of art. I couldn’t wait to be fit again. I was going to take him apart.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter:  
Mentions of a previous abusive relationship  
Spanking and whipping with the riding crop - don’t like, don’t read  
Aftercare

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a man nearing his forties heals a lot slower than he did in his twenties. So I had to wait for the ‘all-clear’ sign from my doctor rather longer than I would have liked. 

The all-clear for ‘strenuous exercise’, that is - because if you think that giving a hard spanking to someone is anything else, then you are in for a surprise. And God, Newt liked it hard. Nothing else got him to that boneless, floating state, he told me. Wax, ice, that was all fine, but the combination of intense pain, impact, sense of helplessness and embarrassment was exactly what he craved. 

He had never dared to reveal this to anyone after a bad experience. One of his partners knew that he liked to be spanked and used it to abuse and exploit Newt. He always did it in exchange for something, he always fucked Newt afterwards even when Newt didn’t want to. He emotionally blackmailed Newt, called him names. After that, Newt was afraid and kept this secret for himself. 

That’s why our first encounter was like a miracle for him. It was perfect, especially the fact that I asked and did what he wanted afterwards. He had never felt so safe and cared for. He told me he would have thought it had been just a dream the following morning had I not been lying in his bed. Just then I realized what a leap of faith it was for him to say yes to me and how much he already had to trust me based on our working relationship. It made my chest swell with pride but also reminded me of the responsibility I had.

I loved to indulge Newt. That said, I kept these heavy scenes few and far between. The anticipation was a part of it and the more he looked forward to them, the more he enjoyed them. And also, we had to be in the mood, we had to be both fit and we had to have time for proper aftercare, preferably the whole weekend.

This time, the waiting was prolonged by my injuries thus I wasn’t particularly surprised when on Thursday evening Newt came to snuggle with me as I was reading in bed. He pressed his body to my side and stuck his head under my arm. I put down the book and petted his hair.

“What do we have here?” I asked and kissed the top of his head. He snuggled closer and looked at me, chin propped on my chest. 

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling rather well, thank you for asking,” I said, peering at him over the rim of my reading glasses.

“Has your strength returned to you?”

“I believe it has. The doctor says I’m all fine,” I said.

Newt’s fingers drew patterns on the bedsheet.

“Then could we…?”

“Could we what?”

“Uhm… have _ a discussion _ tomorrow?”

“A discussion? Why do I have to be strong to have a discussion?”

I didn’t say I made it easy for him, did I? He had to ask for it, I needed to hear from him that he wanted it. As you can guess, he wasn’t very good at it.

Newt buried his face in my armpit in frustration and growled. I huffed a laugh because it was tickling me. 

He raised his head, eyes squeezed.

“Canyoupleasespankmetomorrow?” he blurted and hid again.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

I felt his foot very lightly kicking my leg. 

I tsked. “That is not a very nice thing to do when you are asking someone to do something for you, is it?”

Newt raised his head again, took a deep breath and pronounced clearly: “Can you please spank me tomorrow?”

“There you go. It wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

His glare told me exactly how difficult it was.

“I will. Thank you for asking for it, my brave boy,” I kissed him on the lips, then deepened the kiss. I took off my glasses and flipped Newt on his back, pinning his hands above his head. 

“A practical example of just how strong I feel,” I growled into his ear and pressed my groin against his already hard cock. Oh yes, the embarrassment did things to him, all right.

“Yes, please,” he moaned.

*

I didn’t have any classes on Friday, so I worked from home, finishing a paper and catching up with my correspondence. Newt had to attend a TA seminar. I expected him home after lunch. I popped into a corner shop to make sure we had enough food and tea for the weekend. Then I prepared everything I may need. I piled warm blankets and pillows in the bedroom, put water and chocolate on the nightstand, checked that there are ice packs in the freezer and made some snacks. Then I made myself comfortable on the sofa and waited for Newt. 

I saw him coming from the window, his cheeks red from cold telling me he walked instead of taking the bus. Hid often did that, to clear his mind from work. The nervous energy with which he walked could be seen from the distance. I grinned, looking forward to this almost as much as he did.

“Newton!” I called when I heard him enter the house. “Come to the living room, please.”

I heard his muffled “yes” and a moment later he entered the room, loitering nervously at the door.

“Come here, darling,” I pointed to the spot in front of me. “We have something to discuss,” I echoed his words from the previous evening.

He came closer. I placed a pillow on the floor and made him kneel on it. I watched as he relaxed his shoulders and placed his palms on his knees. The cold winter sun illuminated him from the side, making his hair red like flames. He wore grey woollen trousers, white shirt and mustard cashmere pullover I had given him as a Christmas present, which accentuated his eyes. He looked quite dashing. 

“You took such great care of me when I was injured. I am very grateful,” I told him. Newt smiled at me shyly. 

“Thank you, Sir.”

“However,” I looked at him sternly, which made him shiver and close his eyes for a second, “I think you were sometimes too cheeky. You couldn’t resist, could you? Did you by chance forget where you place is for a while?”

Newt ducked his head. “M-maybe, Sir.”

“I believe you did. Where is your place, Newton?” I took his chin into my fingers to make him look at me.

“At your feet, Sir.”

“Good boy. I feel a reminder is in order for you not to forget this again anytime soon. What is your safeword?”

“Caffeine, Sir.”

“Very good. This is what will happen: I’m going to spank you with my hand. Then you’ll strip and bring me an implement of your choice I’ll use on you. Understood?”

Newt swallowed. I could almost see him imagining vividly the things I just said, even this bringing him pleasure.

“Yes, Sir,” he nodded.

I held a hand, he took it and I drew him directly over my left knee. I lifted his hips, unfastened his trousers and drew them down to his knees together with the underwear. Newt once admitted that he liked this better than being completely naked because it made him feel more like a naughty schoolboy.

I ran my palm over his bottom and found it rather cold, so I massaged his cheeks and thighs for a while. Newt lied with his face turned towards me, eyes closed, and I could see the content smile this brought up. 

With his butt sufficiently warm, I locked his knees in place with my right leg.

“If I remember correctly, you said it was ‘worth it’. Let’s see,” I said and began to spank him in a random pattern. This was my favourite part, even if my palm and arm hurt afterwards. I watched as the colour of his skin went from pale through various shades of pink to red. I could see the white imprints of my fingers before they reddened. I could see how his body’s instincts wanted to escape from the onslaught but his desire for pain overcame them. If I hadn’t held him firmly, he would have squirmed all over. His mouth was open and he let out most delicious breathy moans and yelps. He clutched the pillow he was lying on with his fists as if it could anchor him somehow. 

I stopped for a moment to admire my handiwork and Newt whimpered, breathing heavily. I took one of his hands and squeezed. He squeezed back.

“Well. It looks to me that you are quite pale in some spots. This wouldn’t do.” 

I shifted his right leg from under mine and spread his legs wider. This gave me better access to his inner thighs, which were, indeed, paler than the rest of his arse. I spanked him more methodically now, aiming sharp slaps at the spots of white skin. This made Newt’s yelping and squirming more intense. His eyes were open now and had that dreamy, glossy quality that indicated he was already floating high.

I massaged Newt’s now bright red skin, drawing hisses from him. Time for part two. 

“You took this very well,” I told him. “I hope you had time to think about the implement you are now going to choose. Strip.”

Newt slowly slid from my knees to the kneeling position. He took off his pullover and unbuttoned his shirt. The trousers and pants already slid to his ankles, so he just pulled them off his feet. He didn’t attempt to stand up, instead looked at me inquiringly.

I smiled at him. “I’m pleased to see the lesson is sinking in. Of course, crawl.” 

He was blushing profusely because he knew what view he would offer me like this but turned around and crawled to the chest of drawers that stood in the corner of the living room. Its bottom two drawers were usually locked but I unlocked them earlier that morning.

I groaned at the look of the sharp contrast between his pale freckled skin and bright red, well-spanked bottom and thighs. I subtly adjusted my trousers when Newt was turned away. We were both hard and I obviously enjoyed myself, but this was about him, not me. These scenes never ended in sex, for he was too far away at the end of them. I would have very much liked to get my hands on that utter bastard who had fucked him in that state. I considered it rape because Newt couldn’t defend himself. 

I watched him open the drawers. They contained my collection of various implements that we used in our play. I had canes of various intensity, a lap cane, a riding crop, a selection of wooden and leather paddles of various cuts, a tawse and a very fine leather belt.

I guessed correctly what he was going to choose but when he turned to me with the riding crop between his teeth and began to crawl back to me… bloody Hell, that sight was going to be burnt in my memory forever. It took all my willpower not to devour him on the spot. He already looked absolutely edible with dishevelled hair, red cheeks, glossy eyes and a rock hard cock swinging between his legs - and the riding crop was like a cherry on top. Utterly sinful, that.

I took the leather crop from his teeth and ran its tongue gently over his neck and collarbone.

“Brave choice, my naughty boy,” I whispered.

Calling Newt naughty was as far as I could get. He thrived on praise and didn’t like to be called derogatory names because it made him unsure and ashamed of his preferences. ‘Naughty’ was fine, though - it was naughty in a smutty way. 

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” 

Newt crawled beside my legs as I walked. I enticed him with light taps of the riding crop to his buttocks. When we reached the bedroom, I ordered him to lie on his belly on the duvet and brought up the leather wrist and ankle cuffs. 

“I’m going to secure you to the bed,” I told him.

“Yessir,” he slurred. He liked being restricted and it also allowed me not to be worried about Newt’s hand or leg accidentally thrown in the way of my hits. And he looked incredible in them, I’m not going to lie.

I checked the give of the cuffs and, having been satisfied, I eased off the bed. I took the crop and drew it several times all over Newt’s body, from the head to the soles of his feet, and watched as he melted into the mattress, relaxing his muscles and sighing deeply.

I raised the crop and hit his already red thigh, hard. He yelled and then moaned as the pain spread and dissipated. The imprint of the crop’s tongue reddened quickly.

“Please,” he whimpered, meaning ‘please, more’.

Who was I to deny him? I struck his left buttock twice in quick succession. 

“Ah!!” 

I kept it random. Sometimes just a one hit and a pause, sometimes two or three at once. I focused on his arse and thighs but from time to time I gave a wicked stinging stroke to his shoulders and upper back, startling him because his brain had difficulty to refocus on the new source of pain.

He let go of any embarrassment, getting more and more vocal. I was rather grateful for our detached house.

I had been aware of the subtle movement of Newt’s hips for some time. He was usually chasing his pleasure only semi-consciously, sometimes he did come, sometimes not. I preferred the first option because it was a neater, more natural end of the scene, the other option required me to decide whether he had enough.

Thus, when his movements became quicker, I shortened the pauses between hits and made my hand heavier. Newt’s hands gripped the bars of the headrest tight, his knuckles white. His moaning and yelping were almost continuous now, he stopped just to take a gulp of air. 

My blood sang. The world got reduced only to one purpose: to bring Newt as much pleasure as I was able to, to make it perfect for him. It gave me satisfaction deeper and more intense than any orgasm ever could.

I could tell Newt was close now, moaning and grunting, rutting against the duvet, eyes shut tight. He needed just one last push and I delivered it in the shape of a hard hit squarely over the crown of his arse. He came with a hoarse scream he wouldn’t have recognized as his own. 

Placing the crop aside, I sat next to him on the bed and buried my hand in his hair, petting him till he returned from his high and his breathing slowed a little. Then I took off the cuffs, checking the skin for any irritation, finding it just slightly reddened. Newt’s limbs were heavy in my hands and his eyes were still closed. But he made a protesting noise when I stepped away from him.

“Shhh, darling. I’ll be back in a second and then I won’t leave you an inch.”

I just needed to fetch a wet washcloth from the bathroom and lotion and snacks from the fridge. Newt cracked one eye open when I returned. 

“Now, darling, I need you to move for me a bit, just on your side.”

He whimpered displeasedly, as a child you are trying to coax from the bed in the cold winter morning.

“I know you don’t want to,” I stroked his hair and neck, “but it wouldn’t be pleasant to lie in dry come, you know?”

Newt grunted and slowly turned on his right side, so I could clean him up. With that done, I carefully withdrew the duvet from under him and discarded it on the floor.

“You can turn back now.” 

Newt flopped bonelessly on his belly. It was rather adorable. I placed a kiss on his shoulder. 

“I’m going to put soothing lotion on the welts,” I told him and applied a thin layer of the lotion on the angry red marks on his shoulders, arse and thighs. He hissed as I did so and goosebumps formed under my fingers. But as the cool lotion soothed his hot skin, he hummed in contentment and let me tend to him. 

I was satisfied to see that even though some of the marks would bruise badly, the skin hadn’t been broken anywhere. Newt was going to be delighted to see the bruises. He was fascinated by them. They reminded him of the experience days after as he observed them in the mirror. I once caught him doing so. He went beetroot red but I hugged him and whispered in his ear: “I put them there, so it pleases me very much when you are admiring them. They’re beautiful.” Then I fucked him in front of the mirror, digging my fingers into the bruises and ordering Newt to look. Spectacular.

But I digress. 

I undressed, crawled into the bed and covered us both with a soft blanket. Newt immediately snuggled to me. I made him drink, he protested but gulped down the entire glass in the end, as usual. Then I fed him grapes and small cheese cubes one by one and inhaled a sandwich myself. I was famished and exhausted but happy because I had a bundle of content Newt in my arms. Stroking his lower back, I murmured sweet nonsense into his ear and thought about tomorrow. 

I intended to make him his beloved pancakes with apricot jam and clotted cream and then we would spend the morning in bed and I would read him Sherlock Holmes short stories, which he adored no matter how many times he had heard them. 

Life was great.


End file.
